


Winter Coats

by marshmallownose



Category: House of Anubis
Genre: F/M, I lowkey stuck you in there as a little kid, Merry Christmas Alex, Sibuna Secret Santa, Sibuna Secret Santa 2018, This one-shot is kinda garbage sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 11:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshmallownose/pseuds/marshmallownose
Summary: “Is that why you took so long?” she snorted. “Because you were getting ready to go deep sea diving?”Eddie, from somewhere under his puff vest, scarf, hat gloves, and heavy, hooded winter coat, frowned at her, attempting to cross his arms—key word being attempted, as the amount of layers barred him from doing much of anything. “Ha, ha, laugh it up,” he deadpanned. “But I’m not about to freeze out there! You should put another jacket on.”______For Sibuna Secret Santa 2018





	Winter Coats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Whispers_of_Gallifrey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whispers_of_Gallifrey/gifts).



> Dedicated to the light of my life Alex (@Whispers_of_Gallifrey). Thank you for hosting such a great secret Santa! I hope your holliday is both merry and bright.  
> Also sorry this one-shot is so shitty. I’m trying to work on describing places more than just dialogue. Still, enjoy! xx

The ice rink seemed like a safe bet. First of all, both of them knew how to ice-skate. Second of all, it was close by; not more than a twenty minute bike ride. Yes, the ice rink was a safe bet for...what was it now? The _third_ date?

 

Patricia leaned against the stairs, drumming her nails against her arm. “Any time now, Eddie...” she muttered, glancing down the hallway towards the boy’s rooms.

 

Free-skate started in less than an hour and Patricia didn’t want to wait in line with a hundred other people from town like she’d always ended doing whenever she’d gone skating with Joy and Fabian.

 

Despite herself she smiled at the memory of Joy and Fabian latched onto each other like koala bears as they inched around the rink with wide eyes and nervous giggles. Even if they both sucked at skating, there were no people she’d rather spend her time with at the ice rink.

 

“Yacker! Ready to go?” came a slightly muffled voice from her right.

 

Well, except maybe Eddie, she admitted to herself. Spinning towards him, she very nearly keeled over in laughter. “Is that why you took so long?” she snorted. “Because you were getting ready to go deep sea diving?”

 

Eddie, from somewhere under his puff vest, scarf, hat gloves, and heavy, hooded winter coat, frowned at her, attempting to cross his arms—key word being attempted, as the amount of layers barred him from doing much of anything. “Ha, ha, laugh it up,” he deadpanned. “But I’m not about to freeze out there! You should put another jacket on.”

 

Patricia looked down at herself, then back at her boyfriend incredulously. “Eddie, it’s only, like, seven degrees outside!” His eyes widened comically, and she fixed him with a look. “ _Celsius_ , you doofus,” she amended. “Anyway, you look like we’re going out into an Arctic blizzard. Instead of the cliché of you giving _me_ a coat to stay warm, you’re going to be giving me a coat so _you_ can stay cool.” She stepped forward and poked his chest. “Now, cut the shit, and let’s go.”

 

Eddie stomped his foot almost childishly. “Yacker, you’re built for this weather! You’re British! I live in a place where it’s somewhat warm in the winter.”

 

Patricia couldn’t take it anymore, finally laying her head on his chest and lightly punching his puffy arm. “You stupid _bitch_ ,” she laughed, causing Eddie to chuckle, too. “Fine! Wear your Mount Everest expedition gear! But don’t you _dare_ complain when you’re hot at the rink.”

 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I know rinks are warm enough inside—I’ve played my fair share of hockey; I’ll delayer once we’re inside.”

 

Patricia grinned, wagging her finger. “Nope. I just decided something. You are hereby not allowed to take these off.”

 

Eddie scoffed. “Says who, Yacker?”

 

“Says me.”

 

“What do I get if I keep them on?”

 

Patricia tapped her chin, backing up towards the door. “The satisfaction that you really _are_ a mega doofus. And,” she added, “if I’m right and you’re sweltering by the end of this date, you have to...promise to take any and all advice I give you for the rest of the day, whether or not it’s good.”

 

Eddie rolled his eyes again. “Figures,” he said, but didn’t protest, now determined to prove her wrong. “Come on! It’s not getting any warmer out there!”

 

Patricia grinned as they backed through the door. “True, but is it getting any warmer in _there_?”

 

“Shut up, Yacker.”

* * *

 

They entered the ice rink still laughing.

 

“I can’t believe you couldn’t get off that bicycle without my help!” she guffawed. “I told you that was too many layers!”

 

“Well, if you hadn’t proposed your little challenge, I’d be taking _off_ a layer right about now,” Eddie countered, slumping onto one of the few empty benches.

 

Patricia shook her head fondly, glancing around the lobby of the rink. Packed, just as she’d suspected. Still, the line for rentals wasn’t all that long, and she shot towards it like an arrow. “I’ll get the rentals! What size are you?” she called over her shoulder.

 

“Seven and a half!” he called back, pulling off her boots.

 

Patricia finally reached the blue and grey rental counter where a teen, maybe a year older than her, sat looking extremely bored. “How many?” he asked dully.

 

“Two. One for me and one for the ice fisher over there,” she replied, jabbing a thumb in the direction of her boyfriend.

 

The teen didn’t look impressed. “Size?” he intoned.

 

Patricia didn’t like this boy’s dead eyes, keeping her own words clipped so as to make this whole thing go a little faster. “5 women’s, 7.5 men’s.” The boy obliged, retrieving the skates and dropping them down on the counter.

 

“Fourteen pounds is your total,” said the boy. Patricia fished around in her purse, slammed down fifteen pounds, grabbed her change, and booked it back to the bench where she’d left Eddie.

 

“That boy looked like he had no will to live,” was the first thing she said, dropping his skates in front of him. “He had these dead, _soulless_ eyes.” She shook her head. “He reminds me of Victor.”

 

He laughed, putting them on. “Dead, soulless eyes? Sounds like Victor, alright.” Patricia laughed, and Eddie froze, sliding his foot around the skate experimentally. “Yacker, what size did you get? These are _enormous!_ ”

 

She cocked her head in confusion. “I got your size. Seven and a half, right?”

 

Eddie nodded, brow furrowed. “Yeah...is there an American to British shoe-size conversion or something?”

 

A quick Google search later confirmed his suspicions.

 

Patricia, who’d already strapped on her own skates, harrumphed. “Now why would I know that, Eddie?” she asked.

 

Eddie shook his head fondly at her immediate defense. “No, it’s not your fault,” he assured her. “I’ll go up and get them this time.”

 

Immediately Patricia’s irritation at how _stupid_ America was for changing things up for _no_ _goddamn_ _reason_ melted away as Eddie got to his feet and practically waddled into line, leaving her practically howling with laughter on the bench.

* * *

Finally— _finally—_ they were ready to get on the ice, after Eddie had figured out the conversion system and gotten his correct size. Eddie and Patricia were rearing to hobbled to the edge of the crowded rink where throngs of people, young and old, glided or stumbled around in circles.

 

“Romantic,” Eddie commented, stepping onto the snowy ice. He offered Patricia his hand, and, despite not needing it, she took it. Soon they were off, gliding to and fro, each showing off their favorite tricks. Eddie’s was skating backwards, while Patricia preferred gliding along on one foot and hopping to show off her balance.

 

Inevitably, though, it came time for a race. There was never a truer test of who was the better skater. They started at the entrance and end at the entrance. Patricia managed to get a nine year old girl named Alexandra to judge them (how, Eddie didn’t know).

 

“On your mark,” announced Alexandra, clapping her gloved hands together. Eddie tensed his muscles, and beside him so did Patricia. “Get set...” He felt a trickle of sweat run down his back, and tugged at the collar of his winter coat; Patricia smirked as if she knew just how uncomfortable he was. “GO!” the nine year-old squealed, and the two teens were off, dodging around inexperienced and experienced skaters alike.

 

Eddie stumbled on the corner, and Patricia laughed out loud, blue eyes glistening with delight as she pulled ahead. Eddie knee for a fact he could catch up to her if he didn’t have the stupid winter gear on, and as she crossed the finish line, he was forced to admit that, _yes_ , Yacker was right.

 

“What was that?” Patricia asked cheekily, cupping a hand around her ear as they exited the rink and hobbled back into the lobby. “I didn’t quite catch that, could you say it again?”

 

“I said you were right, Patricia,” Eddie grumbled good-naturedly as he took off his winter coat and puff vest.

 

Patricia grinned in response, plopping down next to him on the wooden bench. “That is correct,” she teased, elbowing him.

 

Eddie, in turn, bumped her arm, and it soon turned into an all-out nudging war, eventually leading to Patricia being hip-checked off the bench and onto her rump with an unceremonious _thud_.

 

They both stared at each other wide eyed before bursting into laughter. “You’re such a slimeball,” she cackled, rising to her feet.

 

Eddie stood, too. “Ah, yes, but I’m your slimeball.” They paused, looking long and hard at each other. Eddie cleated his throat. “So...how about we add a tally mark in your book of kisses?”

 

Patricia had the audacity to snort, but she didn’t move away. “That’s the best line you could come up with?”

 

Eddie cracked a grin. “I’m distracted by your staticky hair and runny nose,” he admitted, stepping closer, still balanced on the skates he had yet to remove.

 

Patricia subconsciously placed a hand to her hair to smooth it down. “Cold air and hats do that, doofus. And you’ve got pit-stains, Weasel,” she fired back.

 

Eddie chuckled, leaning closer, and Patricia hummed. “With all these people watching?” she asked.

 

Eddie shrugged. “Who cares about them?”

 

Patricia certainly didn’t, and they met in the middle, slightly chapped lips and all. She pulled away first with a quirked smile on her face. “Here’s my first piece of advice,” she said, and Eddie groaned, assuming it to be something ridiculous. “If we want a more romantic date, or whatever, we go somewhere where there _aren’t_ little kids.” Patricia pointed over his shoulder, and Eddie turned to follow her hand to where the little Alexandra stood watching them with a dropped jaw and wide eyes.

 

“Seems we have an audience,” he observed. “Do you want to go somewhere a little more... _private?_ ”

 

Patricia cocked an eyebrow. “You’d better not be insinuating what it sounds like you’re insinuating.”

 

Eddie laughed. “ _No_ , Yacker. I’m already way too warm for that,” he replied. “I was thinking more along the lines of...I don’t know, the café a block over? I’m _starving!_ ”

 

Patricia shook her head in fond exasperation and smiled to herself, sitting down to unstrap her skates. “I guess we can, Weasel. But my advice?” He rolled his eyes but nodded for her to continue. “You should put your coat back on. I wasn’t joking about those pit-stains.” 

 

 


End file.
